Between
by EHWIES
Summary: The feather is stuffed in your hand, and you take your cue to leave. You hover outside the door, hear voices, hear your name: Wormtail, and it sounds different than before.


**Between**

"He's a werewolf."

Potter is the first to see. _James_—how fond you are of him! You know your weakness, know your poor reputation, and yet James never seemed to care. So like him to see past people, as he always has with you.

Black is stricken, doesn't speak. As usual, you merely watch the exchange. Something unidentifiable crosses him—_disgust?_—and then it's gone. "Every month… at the full moon…" He's nodding, and a relief you didn't know you needed fills you.

"It all fits," you agree and discover you've been nodding along.

In the silence that follows, you're clueless as to what to next do. Relief of a more familiar kind meets you like a friend when conversation resumes.

-:-

It's then that you realize his eyes are black. Cold, heartless—you hate them, but somehow they seem human.

Your fur stands on end when he spots Lupin—for a moment, and then Potter is there. It's over in a flash. Black is in the other room; you remain unseen.

The manic look in Lupin's wolfish eyes is enough to terrify you. You tear after Black until Snivellus is gone and huddle in the bedroom. You feel too small.

It's because of these instants of _fear_ that you feel so detached from them. Not just on full moons—when you fail your Transfiguration exam, when Potter flirts with Evans, when you cut yourself off halfway through a sentence because no one will _listen_. Potter makes up for it, Lupin has always been like that with everyone, and yet…

Your thoughts turn back to Snivellus. _He must tell no one._

It will be Black's fault if he does. You've never much liked him, after all.

-:-

She's pretty—you think she's pretty—when she smiles. She thinks she's ordinary and won't _listen_ when you say otherwise. You don't mind.

"How's the Order?" she asks blandly—always blandly—every day the same words with no meaning.

"Boring," you say this time. Change is nice.

Mary tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "No new assignments?" You shake your head.

Chills go down your spine a second before she says it: "Maybe you could try a decoy or something with Death Eaters, set it up with an Order member. No offense, but you're a little timid—they might believe you."

"I know Occlumency," you say suddenly. Marlene McKinnon was always talented at it; she taught you once. You're grateful now.

Mary nods and smiles again, so you follow through with it, just to make her happy. You run the idea past McKinnon, and she tells you to go for it, tells you she'll make sure Dumbledore knows.

Death Eaters kill her family a week later, but a week must have been long enough. Days later, the very idea that it wasn't slips your mind.

-:-

There's vengeance in Black's eyes. Dislike is now hate—_disgust?_

"Lily and James, Sirius… how could you?"

You hadn't practiced Occlumency for a while when the Dark Lord cursed it out of you. This won't become your fate.

The spell is easy to say.

-:-

The phoenix feather lies harmless on the desk's surface, fluttering faintly in the seconds after its arrival. There's an echoing silence as the squabble stops dead. Wide black eyes meet gray.

"Death Eaters are coming," Snivellus says, and the horror in his eyes is gone in a second. "Go. Now."

You stutter feebly, "But… I… you… _Dumbledore_?"

Already he's closing himself off to you, wary, and you realize you've always known that he doesn't trust you. "_You must tell no one_ of this," he says, his lips dangerously thin. "_Go_."

You look into his eyes and in that instant no longer hate him. It's all rushing back at you, and your mouth says (_you do not_), "I would never… the Dark Lord—Seve—_Snivellus_."

The lifetime between you is suddenly your connection. The flicker of affection has gone, replaced by disbelief at your own words, mirrored in Snivellus's face. "They say you returned out of fear of your old school friends."

"I did." It's still not you talking.

You feel a painful pause. He does not. "The Dark Lord will not summon you just yet," Snivellus says slowly—achingly slowly—it pains you further. "You must not… you must _never_…"

"Of course." You're nodding vigorously with that same detached feeling and aren't sure whom you blame.

The feather is stuffed in your hand, and you take your cue to leave. You hover outside the door, hear voices, hear your name: _Wormtail_, and it sounds different than before.

"Narcissa! And Bellatrix! How charming—"

Their names sound foreign on your tongue. You've always been a bad liar.

-:-

**A/N:** Mary refers to Mary Macdonald, a Gryffindor classmate of Lily's referenced in Deathly Hallows.


End file.
